The Violet Hour (X-Men AU)

6: Mother

A/N: God, I love comments

This was a day when I went without Peter. The first day of summer, I was spending with my mother, as was done for most of my life. I explained it to Peter last night when he dropped me at my doorstep and said goodbye.

       "You know, my mom is dying to meet you," I told him, leaning against the wall next to my door. "She thinks it's a miracle you haven't ditched me yet. She doesn't know you have superspeed, so... just wait until she does."

     He smiled, "She seemed nice for the split second the other day when I ran past her. It was a split second because the door was mid-closing, but she's pretty, too."

        "Oh Lord, please don't have a crush on my mom, Peter, that's the last thing I need from you." I snorted. I waved my hand around in the air, "I know she's an attractive woman, but... please don't."

        He laughed at the ground, "No, I don't have a thing for your mom. Not yet, at least, I haven't actually met her."

        "Ew, Peter, no-" I was laughing there was a moment of me covering my face and he grabbed my hands. 

        "Would you-" he moved my hands away from my face. "-Stop doing that? You're not ugly, stop acting like you are, it's really annoying."

        It was habitual, the covering of my face when I laughed too much. Instinct, maybe, because I didn't want to be caught or seen with a laugh on my face in case I looked odd. I narrowed my eyes at him, "Fine."

      "Good," he let go and rocked on his heels. The mood felt shifted, but where it started was already gone and unrecognizable. Odd. "I'll see you soon, I have the entire summer to bother you and you bet I will."

I was still wondering why covering my face would be annoying to him, as I found it peculiar that any sort of miffed-off-ness would come from me not caring for my own laugh. I didn't mind his thoughts, though- I liked knowing what was on other's minds. I shook my head at Peter, "Just no bothering me tomorrow, I spend the first official day of break with my mother. It's a thing we do every year and sadly, there are no men allowed." I paused, "I actually just realized I don't have any way to call you..."

         "Oh," Peter said, whizzing off and coming back with a pen. "We have two landlines, but one is mine, so..." he grabbed my hand once again and wrote his number on my wrist. I watched as he wrote the digits with semi-messy writing. "That's a four, by the way." He said, chuckling.

           "-And just in case you need to call me first," I took the pen from him and took his hand this time. You know, really if there was anything attractive to me about Peter, it would be his hands. Not that he wasn't attractive, he was good-looking as a person, but if anything appealed to me personally, it was his hands. I had always thought of really nice hands as artwork and he happened to have such. 

       "You okay?" Peter shook his hand a little in mine and I scrunched my nose and shook my head, snapping back to what I was supposed to be doing. I wrote my home number on his wrist and he took his hand back to read it. 

       I couldn't believe how much had happened that day. I slid down the wall and sat on the ground just going over it again. I often thought things over too much. He tilted his head curiously and then must have realized what I was thinking. He sat right down on the ground with me. 

       He looked entirely serious, but still looked partly concerned. "What you did today was really, really badass. You kicked that coward's ass and you stayed calm when his gun was pointed right at your head. Bam, bam, walls come down with your mind. I'm really lucky to have witnessed that and will brag about it until I'm 21."